Page 153 of Those Who Are Bound

“What words do you want me to use?”

She knew exactly what he meant. “How about the truth? That you’re fucking a godless—” The words cut off because so did her oxygen. She clawed at his constricting hand, her eyes widening. Jonah had never been intentionally cruel. Perversely, it sent millions of pleasure signals to all of her erogenous zones.

He leaned in closer and corrected her. “I’m not fucking you. We’re in a relationship.”

Thatwas his complaint? He eased up on his hold and she snidely pointed out, “Technically, you do fuck me.”

“Elliott,” he warned, his voice low and deep in warning as he crowded her.

The backs of her legs were against the metal of the canoe; she was leaning backward slightly. If he pressed in an iota more, they’d both tumble into the contraption. She stared up at him and answered his question. “The truth, Jonah. Your dodge is telling. That wasn’t for me, for my feelings, to protect me. That was for you; for them.”

An expression of realization crossed his face. He opened his mouth to respond when they were interrupted by a call for him. He blinked as though he’d forgotten the people behind him.

“Pastor Jonah! Say a prayer before we start out? Bless the journey?”It was a cheerful male voice, clearly not cluing in to the fact that their pastor had her by the throat. Of course, his body was blocking her from view.

Jonah looked to the side briefly before returning to her.

“You’re being summoned.” She was actually grateful for the interruption; his intensity—thisintensity—was new.

“This is a momentary reprieve. We’re going to be in this canoe all day.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

He pierced her with a hard look before he let go of her completely and stepped back. He appeared reluctant to turn away, but he did, and he walked over to where the twenty some-odd people were waiting for him. A few of them were looking past him to her, but she turned her attention to the river.

“Elliott, are you joining us?”

She didn’t know who asked the question.

“No,” Jonah answered for her. “Shall we get into a circle?”

Elliott watched from her peripheral vision as they huddled around. Concerned and curious looks were tossed her way, but their attention quickly diverted to Jonah. Whatever he was saying couldn’t be heard over the sounds of the water and the other people in the area, the workers shouting to one another.

It didn’t take long, whatever he did to conjure his god to bless their journey. She watched a group of inner tubers float past and wondered wryly if it was a one-size-fits-all prayer or if it was tailored to only the people gathered in their circle. Was she included? Not that she wanted to be, but it was a valid question: what were the limits of their concern?

But other than the initial invitation, she wasn’t forced to take part, so let them do what they wanted to do. As she waited, she removed her shirt and pushed off her shorts.

Once again, she was jerked upright by her arm.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Startled, she looked up at him and answered stupidly, “Getting ready to go on a float trip.” What was his problem this morning?

He examined the front of her as he moved to once again body block her from—she assumed—everyone else’s view. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

Her jaw dropped open. She was wearing a bright turquoise tankini with a hot pink sash across her left breast. They were boy cut shorts. Yes, a healthy portion of her torso was on display, but it wasn’t as skimpy as some of the outfits she saw milling around—not even as slight as his best friend was wearing. She’d wanted practical; she wasn’t a preening, string-bikini kind of girl. But if she needed to pee, a two-piece was easier. “How dare you?” she challenged.

Possessive was feel-good only to a point.

He looked around, caught between chagrin at his own actions and distress that—yes—others were looking at her.

She pointed out, “The only thing they’ll see is me in a bathing suit and the bruisesyouleave on me from rough sex.”

Pulling her in, he hugged her. His breath tickled her ear as he said, “I’m sorry, kitten. You’re gorgeous. I got selfish; I had no right.”

Relaxing against him, Elliott closed her eyes. She could have taken him more to task, but in the back of her mind, she was concerned that she’d pushed him to do this; his out-of-character responses were a result of her influence. She’d seen it before, the slip.

Then, she’d wanted it to happen; craved it, even as it disappointed her, those men who couldn’t meet the challenge of who she was. But Jonah? She didn’t want him to slip because of her. So she forgave him—all of his transgressions. This was their last day. And he’d apologized. Still, she said, “Don’t let it happen again.”

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